Come And Find Me
by kaisalune
Summary: Hanna is alive. She's just killed Marissa Wiegler. And she's ready for anything. Rated M for future violence.


**Hey everyone :) I really liked this movie so I thought I'd write a little something something. Hope its okay!**

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><p>"I just missed your heart."<p>

Her finger tightened on the trigger and the loud bang cracked through the silent forest, sending a flock of birds in a nearby tree skyward. The bullet found home in the middle of Marissa's forehead, dead center. Hanna lowered her arm wielding the gun and released the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. Her hand went to the bullet wound in her side and she let out a little whine of pain. There. That was it. Now she needed to grit her teeth and get through it.

She shoved the gun down the waistband of her pants and sat down briefly, watching Marissa. Her face was still in the expression of shock from falling down the slide. The arrow still stuck out of her. Hanna stood and retrieved it, wiping the blood off it with her sleeve, and slid that, too, into her waistband at the back, pulling her jumper over it. Waste not want not.

Where to now? Her father – no, Erik – was dead. She felt an odd pang when she thought of him that she couldn't quite place. She wasn't used to this feeling. It was unfamiliar to her.

She left Marissa and walked back through the park, past the tall and broken dinosaur replicas, to the little house where currently a man hung dead from the ceiling with arrows sticking out of his chest. It was a shame, too – Hanna had liked him.

She went past him, reminding herself to take the arrows out of him when she left. She wondered if there was a bow around here. She went to the tiny kitchen and rummaged around in the drawers. Finally she found some fishing wire and a needle. Hm, not the best to use, but this was what Erik trained her for. She managed to find some antiseptic under the sink and doused the needle in the stuff, and the fishing line for good measure, and then decided to let both soak in it for a while. Then she took off her jumper and shirt and examined the bullet wound. It wasn't too bad… well, as far as they went, she supposed. She'd never exactly been shot before. As she probed it her side seared in pain. She bit down hard on her lip until her mouth tasted of blood.

Further rummaging produced a bottle of vodka. She took the cap off and took a large gulp. It burned its way down her throat but she didn't stop. She'd drank half the bottle when she decided she'd better deal with the wound before she got too drunk. She looked at it again. She could feel the bullet, close to the surface. She supposed she was lucky that she didn't need to dig too deep to get it out.

She gritted her teeth and used the tip of a knife to gouge the bullet out. Even with the vodka in her system it felt like the wound was on fire. Finally it fell to the floor and rolled under the sink, and she left it. She took a long length from a roll of paper towels and held it to her side, which was now bleeding more heavily than before. She went to retrieve the needle and threaded it with the fishing line. Taking another large swallow of vodka before beginning, Hanna poked the needle into her side. She ground her teeth as she felt the tug and pull, and the pain, of the needle as she sewed herself up. The typical life of a teenager.

Once she was finished she was sweating profusely and her head was foggy, probably a combination of the vodka and the pain. Grabbing her bottle and leaving the kitchen in its bloody state, she went and collapsed into a musty sofa by the window, exhausted. She knew she couldn't rest for long. She needed to get out before they sent somebody to look for Marissa. But she needed to rest. She was still human, an abnormal one at that.

Her mind drifted to Sophie. It must have been her. She must have told Marissa her and Erik's meeting place. And Hanna had trusted her! She supposed she'd learnt a valuable lesson – trust no one. Sophie had been different to other people, though. Hanna had liked her. They'd been friends. Hanna had never had a friend. She'd grown up in isolation, with only her father and the wildlife to keep her company. And when around Hanna, the wildlife wasn't alive for very long.

Casting her eyes around the room, Hanna saw a bow sitting, half under the staircase. She heaved herself up and picked it up, smiling to herself. Maybe her luck was changing. Even though she didn't believe in luck. She slung it over her shoulder, ignoring the painful pull of her stitches, before going over to retrieve the arrows sticking out of the clown. She rinsed them of his blood quickly and made a makeshift quiver by tying a length of rope around a cylinder, she supposed used for carrying posters or something, and shoved the arrows into them before slinging the quiver, too, over her shoulder. She left the one in the back of her jeans as precaution.

She cleaned up the kitchen, burning her bloodied paper towels, needle and thread, and wiped the drops of blood off the dirty linoleum. She found the bullet under the sink but decided to leave it on the kitchen counter. A warning to any agents who decided killing her was their best option.

_I'm alive. Come and find me._

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><p><strong>There we go, prologue down. Review! I like them ;)<strong>


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